


i’m like the water (when your ship rolled in that night)

by arcturusfig



Category: Little Women (2019)
Genre: F/M, I love them okay, Love, Taylor Swift inspired, would like a whole movie about them please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:29:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcturusfig/pseuds/arcturusfig
Summary: Missed moments between Amy and Laurie.
Relationships: Theodore Laurence/Amy March
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	i’m like the water (when your ship rolled in that night)

**Author's Note:**

> this is for those two reviewers on my last amy/laurie fic and said they needed more! so here you go!

Amy did end up giving the mold of her foot to Laurie. 

She appeared on his doorstep, mold in a box, and a hand still healing from the whipping she received but three days earlier. 

The mold was accompanied by a drawing of Laurie in a suit of armor for having saved her. 

Amy’s cheeks turned very pink when Mr. Lawrence answered the door, and informed her with a bemused smile on his face that his grandson was unfortunately away until later and if she would leave her presents with him, he would be sure that Laurie received them. Amy, who had gone uncharacteristically quiet in her embarrassment, just nodded and said a shy ‘thank you’, and handed her box over to Mr. Lawrence.

Before she went, she gave a small curtsy and hurried away, Mr. Lawrence watching her go with a wide grin.

He decided he very much enjoyed this littlest March who very clearly loved his grandson.

Unfortunately for Amy, her behavior and gifts were all related to Laurie by his grandfather, who told him all of this laughing harder than Laurie had seen in some time. 

When Laurie shows his grandfather the drawing, the old man just clutches at his side in his armchair, shoulders shaking in glee. 

Laurie does not find it as funny as his grandfather. He’d much rather it was Jo sending him a ditty about his heroics, and not the baby of the family sending him a mold of her foot! 

(As soon as he says it, he realizes how poisonous that thought is and banishes it from his mind. Because Amy thought he was a hero and that was and is good enough for him.) 

He then relates to his grandfather Amy’s unhesitating assertion that her feet were the best in the family. 

His grandfather howls at that one and through tears says, “Now that is something you would have absolutely done.” 

At that an emotion flares in Laurie’s chest, something he can’t quite name. 

After that incident, it is absolutely clear who Mr. Lawrence’s favorite March girls are.(Jo would always be his least favorite for breaking his grandson’s heart, and Meg for taking away that wonderful Mr. Brooks.) 

When Laurie returns home after any outing, his grandfather always asks if “that foot girl did anything like that again?” 

Laurie always happily obliges. 

Eventually Laurie sends Amy a card in the Pickwick club mailbox of a note that says “I never properly thanked Ms. March for her excellent drawing and the most beautiful mold of her foot.” 

Accompanying it on the page: a wobbly tracing of Laurie’s own foot, heavily smudged. 

Laurie could hear Amy’s laughter from his bedroom. He smiled. 

-

When Laurie finds out about the whole novel-burning debacle in the ever continuing saga of the Jo-Amy feud, he decides he is going to do something nice for Amy and Beth. 

After all, he loves them dearly as well, and well he supposes it isn’t quite fair for Beth and Amy to have nothing when Jo and Meg did get to go to the theater. He knows he will have to time it right because Jo is still terribly cross about the manuscript burning, and if Laurie even mentions a book, pen, Amy, home, Meg, Beth, school, well whatever really, Jo launches into one of her many long winded rants full of how that manuscript was her life’s work, Amy: a selfish brat, and shouts of “and another thing!” that he really doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jo’s fury. 

So he begins to plan albeit very very carefully.

He begins with Beth. Sweet Beth with her dolls and needlepoint and decides that a gift of fine cloth, thread, needles, and scissors, she could sew up some beautiful evening dresses for her dolls, or exquisite handkerchiefs. He picks the fabrics out himself and arranges it very nicely in a little basket. He is very proud of himself for thinking all of this out, after all he knows Beth would give the clothes off her back if he asked for her help. 

Amy would be trickier. It needed to be small, as to not replicate any particular manuscript-burning incidents. (Not that he believed Jo would do something like that- right?) 

He eventually settled on some heavy pastels and charcoals, thick enough that they would not be broken easily and could all be contained in a little pouch. Amy could take them with her so no certain tempestuous older sisters could find them. 

The matter had been settled, the gifts had been procured and now all he had to do was give them to the girls. He had planned on doing it after dinner the day he was set to go ice-skating with Jo. They would part, get cleaned up, and while Jo was changing he’d slip the gifts into the hands of Beth and Amy. It was fool proof. 

And then Amy fell through the ice. 

Laurie would never deny the icy claw of fear that gripped his heart when he heard Amy crash through the ice. But if his heart was in his throat, Jo’s had leapt out and was running ten feet in front of her as she tried to get to her sister. Amy was wailing for Jo as she tried to keep her head above water.

Laurie hauled the little shivering body out of the ice, and Jo practically tackled him, eyes frozen wide in fear. 

As Laurie carried Amy towards home, Jo, who was white as a ghost, held the hand that was not gripping to Laurie’s jacket between her own, trying to warm her. 

When they reached the March home, there was a flurry of noise and excitement as Meg and Beth and Marmee fussed over Amy, getting her to bed immediately. Jo didn’t leave her side. 

For the first time since he had met them, Laurie felt like an outsider looking in on the March household as Beth gathered blankets and Meg boiled water. 

After Marmee came back downstairs and thanked him so profusely, clasping his hands in hers it brought a tear to his eye, she assured him Amy was going to survive (she said with a trace of mirth in her voice, amused that one daughter’s friend could be so concerned about another) she told him to go home. 

“All will be well here Laurie.” Marmee’s steadfastness always made Laurie yearn for a mother of his own. 

(Laurie had not forgotten his presents however. He waited for the next day, and told Meg, who answered the door that the gifts were not from him.)

(But still, a week later the most beautiful embroidered handkerchief with a blue “L” and a pastel-drawn thank you card appeared in his mailbox.) 

-

Laurie had danced with all of her sisters at Meg’s wedding, except her. 

Amy decides that it will not ruin her night. She is so happy for Meg and for her new brother John. 

She’d danced with John in a lively jig and when he teased her about her dancing, she stomped on his foot and he threw his head back and laughed just like Meg. She decided that if any man were to take Meg away from her, she was glad it was him. 

Amy danced with her father who told her how pretty she had gotten and that he had seen some of the portraits that she’d done and told her she might be the most talented girl in the whole world. Amy had laughed the praise off, but afterwards she had to excuse herself to blot the tears out of her eyes. Amy was realistic and knew she was neither of her parents favorite, but she never doubted her parents loved her. But her father telling her she could be great? Well she must be then. 

Amy danced a reel with Beth and they laughed their heads off when Amy fell and Beth helped her up and in a rare display of passionate affection, gave Amy a bone crushing hug.   
“I never told you how much I missed you while I was sick.” Beth whispered.   
Amy just held her sister tighter. 

When Aunt March asked her to be her companion to Europe Amy almost said no. Almost. Because she would be leaving behind Beth and Meg and Laurie. And Jo. 

Jo would probably never forgive her. She was taking something else away from her. First her manuscript and now this. 

But then she saw Jo spin Laurie around and they were both laughing and Laurie was looking at Jo. And Amy recognized his look because it was the one she wore looking at him. 

And in a burst of something that Amy still couldn’t name (Selfishness? Anger? Pity?) she said yes. Out of all of them, Amy knew it would be the easiest for her to go. 

So she said yes. 

When she told her mother she was excited and scared all at once, and the best thing Jo could do was say that it was a marvelous idea. 

And in that moment Amy wanted to hug Jo so fiercely, to even try and replicate the depth of the feelings she had for her sister. (she would later, when getting on the ship) 

Now, the night was winding down and her parents had gone to bed and Jo had wandered off as she usually did when she finally bored herself and needed re-energizing. Beth had fallen asleep on one of the chairs and Amy was still wide awake. One summer and she would be in Europe. She could hardly wait. One summer, and the air around her was still warm. 

“Miss March,” came a voice from behind her, breaking her from her thoughts. 

His voice. 

“Would you please have this last dance with me?” 

Amy turns and there is Laurie, grinning at her like the cat that got the cream. His hair has been tousled far beyond recognition of the careful combing of his grandfather, and he has shed his dinner jacket God knows where. 

And he is holding out his hand, palm up, for her to take it. 

“Last dance you say? I wonder why my lord, was I your last pick?” Amy teases him. She crosses her arms but she’s grinning at him, eyes sparkling. 

Laurie bows his head, “My apologies dear lady, I only meant to say that one should always save the best for last.” 

And that seems to do it because Amy’s laugh tinkles in his ear and her hand gently falls into his. He kisses the back of it, and when he looks at her, she's staring at him like she’s never seen him before. 

And before Laurie can even think about it, Amy has turned away and is pulling him back towards where the last few couples are dancing in the dying light. 

Amy goes to bed that night more confused than she’s ever been. The spot on her hand burns where he kissed it. 

-

Laurie hears about Amy’s refusal for Fred in the same breath that he learned the gentlest March sister had died. 

It was like coming up for air and then immediately being drowned in icy water. Because AmyAmy AMY had chosen him. It had to be what that meant.

And then Beth. Laurie’s hands went to his pocket and to his heart. In his pocket is the finest handkerchief he would ever own, and over his heart, and thank you note, creased from love. 

Out of all of them, Laurie always thought he liked Beth best. Maybe because Beth was the closest thing to a sister he ever had. Meg was more like a third mother to him (the first being his own, and the second being Marmee) always nagging at him to eat a little more and to tease Amy a little less.   
Jo was always Jo. His dearest friend. 

And Amy? He didn’t want to think about what Amy was to him if she wasn’t going to be. 

But Beth. Beth. Beth and he would play duets on his grandfather’s piano. And when she swore him to secrecy he promised he would never tell. Beth, who hugged him once, the first time he saw her after Amy’s bath in the pond, and Laurie thought he might be crushed in half by the weight of her love. Beth, whom he never teased, and Laurie had smacked Fred Vaughn after the day at the beach when he said that she was like a wet blanket. 

The little sister he always wanted, was gone forever. 

His next thought was of Amy. He had to get to her. He had to tell her that he would spend the rest of his days making her happy, and she would never want for anything again he would go away so she would never see him again if he could just hold her in his arms at this moment. She shouldn’t bear this alone.

When Laurie bursts into the Paris hotel a day after the news, his heart drops into his knees for the third time that day for such a young man, when he is told the March party has already been checked out. 

But hope has wings, and it rose in him when the clerk said they were preparing their carriage.

The clerk doesn’t finish his sentence because Laurie is running. Manners be damned. 

\-   
Amy never thought she would have a small wedding. She always knew she would marry rich, and believed she would have the most sumptuous wedding of all her sisters. White roses with light blue accents would be everywhere and her wedding gown would be so beautiful people would remark about it years after the wedding.

And don’t even get her started on the food. 

She never thought it would be in the Chapel of a church in Le Havre, with only Aunt March and the priest, wearing a blue traveling gown, and hair done herself. WIthout her family. 

But still, as she looks into Laurie’s eyes while he is repeating that he’ll love her forever she knows she would never change a thing. 

Laurie slides the hastily purchased gold ring onto her finger. She doesn’t even have an engagement ring! And yet, Amy surprises herself by knowing that Laurie could be standing in front of her with nothing and she wouldn’t change her mind. 

The ceremony closes with the priest announcing that they are man and wife, and that Laurie may now kiss the bride. 

Bride. 

And then.

Wife.

Laurie kisses her like Aunt March isn’t sitting three feet away, like she is air and he hasn’t breathed in his whole life. 

Amy just smiles into it and kisses him right back. 

-

Amy tells him she’s pregnant on Jo’s wedding day. 

When Laurie looks back on it, it's very much like Amy to steal the spotlight from Jo. The Amy/Jo feud would never be settled, no matter how old or mature either of them grows, and Laurie knows that now he would also always side with Amy. 

To be fair to his wife, Jo did announce that she was getting published on Amy’s birthday.   
And to be fair to Jo, Amy did only tell him. 

Laurie woke up to a cold spot where Amy usually was. He turns over and yawns. Wedding day. She was probably over fretting about Jo’s hair or dress or something. 

Never had Laurie been so glad to have been left out of a March sister activity. 

He knew exactly how it would go as well. Meg would be arranging Jo’s hair one way, Amy would be trying to wrestle her dress on her, and Jo would not be sitting still. 

It was a miracle there was even going to be a ceremony at all. On one of their many walks, Jo had entered a hand-waving rant about how she would be perfectly happy with a courthouse wedding with no muss or fuss, but no Frederick had to be a romantic, and something about ‘only marrying once’, Laurie wasn’t really sure he had stopped listening after a point. 

All he could think about that the last time they were in this field Jo had turned him down and he thought he could never be happy again. Now, as he walked through it with his best friend (Amy didn’t count, she was his wife which meant she was always first), all he could think about was how incandescently happy he was that Jo and him had found people to love. 

After another hour, Laurie rose, and dressed in his suit and started his walk towards Plumfield. It was a beautiful morning, crisp with the promise of a warm afternoon, sunny and still. 

The magic of it all was broken when he walked into Plumfield. Mr. March was doing his best to ignore the shouting that carried itself down the stairs by going over the sermon he would give at the wedding. His grandfather was there, making sporadic chit-chat and immersing himself in his newspaper. Laurie decided that he would sit in the armchair across from them. He had one job: walk Jo down the aisle. That was it. He decided for the sake of his marriage and his friendship, the best thing to do was to stay out of the way. 

Especially when he heard shouts of “OW Amy!” and “Oh don’t be such a baby Jo I barely touched you,” float down the stairs. 

A few moments pass and then Amy is stomping downstairs. Looking a vision as always, with the most tremendous scowl on her face. Oh how he loves that wife of his.

She looks over at him, and despite the scowl, Laurie can see the imperceptible wobble of her lower lip. A sign that Amy is about to cry. Sometimes it amazes him how well he has come to know her.

Laurie leaps up and is at her side, and they are out the front door faster than either of their fathers even realize anything is wrong. 

He leads her outside to the little bench on Plumfield’s magnificent front porch, and sits Amy down. He gives her the little hankie with the blue “L” that he has carried with him. 

Amy wipes the tears from her eyes, and then clutches the handkerchief to her heart. 

“Whatever is the matter my Lady?” Laurie asks, pulling her to him, rubbing her shoulder with his hand. 

Amy doesn’t get two words out before she’s weeping, and hiccuping, “I- Jo sent me out- just wanted to help- can never do anything right- and I’m pregnant- what if I am a bad mother-” and thats all Laurie gets before he stops listening. 

Pregnant? 

He’s going to be a father?

“Amy, Amy, did you say pregnant?” He whispers.

That seems to pull Amy out of her distress and she sits up and looks at him with wide eyes.

“Amy?” Laurie asks, holding her hands in his own. 

A little smile breaks across her tear-stained face, “I was going to tell you after Jo’s wedding. I went to the doctor a few days ago and they’re sure.”

Laurie’s face splits into the biggest grin Amy has ever seen. 

“Oh Amy!” He embraces her, “This is the most wonderful news! But why are you crying?” 

Amy sniffles and looks down at her hands. “I pulled Jo’s hair a little too hard I guess and she snapped at me. I know she didn’t mean it but it just made me think about if I couldn’t even arrange my sister’s hair at her wedding or stop fighting with her, then maybe I would be no good as a mothe-” 

She doesn’t finish because Laurie kisses her fiercely. 

When he pulls away he looks her dead in the eye, “Amy Lawrence that is the most foolish thing you have ever said. You are going to be amazing and we are going to do this together.” 

Amy nods and hugs him again. “You are the most wonderful man in the world.” 

“And you are the most wonderful wife.” He whispers into her hair. 

Amy stands, and gives his handkerchief back. She straightens her spine and heads back upstairs shouting at Jo that she won’t pull her hair if she can help her get her jewelry on. Laurie watches her go with a soft smile on his face. 

Amy, his love, his wife, and now, mother of his child. 

When Laurie walked Jo down the aisle, he could only look at Amy.


End file.
